


Compass Points You Home (Compass Points You Anywhere Closer To Me)

by serendipityinwords



Series: just another half-told story [1]
Category: The 100
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, basically my bellarke reunion wet dream, bellarke reunion, idk i just needed to get this out, true north
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:44:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipityinwords/pseuds/serendipityinwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke finds Bellamy. Neither of them were really searching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compass Points You Home (Compass Points You Anywhere Closer To Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, in my defense, I was listening to Compass by Zella Day and I couldn't get the true north thing out of my head. Basically, I couldn't fall asleep until I had written this. I don't know how I feel about it yet. It's different from my writing style but it kind of... flowed? Tell me what you guys think.

She walks into his life again when he's out hunting. There's plenty of food. He just needs to be alone. Evidently, he's not alone. He sees a flash on red and gold and the feeling starts at the pit of his stomach before it reaches his lungs. He can't breathe. And then, he can again. Of course, he can.

Because it's _her_. She broken-terrifying fragile-and strange and all too familiar and it’s _her_. It's _Clarke_.

He’s spent so long building a world without her, it’s almost as if he could have pretended that she had never existed. Like she didn’t come in into his life in a whirlwind of gold hair and insults, scrubbing his soul clean. He could have forgotten. He could have ignored the dull ache that had been set deep in his bones since she’d left.  He could have gone on without the warm touch of her fingers when he got tired, propping him back up. He could have. He could have. _God_ , he could have. He didn't want to, though. He never wanted to.

But she’s here and all of a sudden, the ache is gone and he breathes so much easier. Her eyes meet his, past the trees and past the lost time between them and past all the walls he’s built up, and they light up. He swallows. _Oh god_ , he thinks. _Oh god oh god oh god._

When she throws herself at Bellamy, he thinks he’s not going to hug her. _She left him,_ he reminds himself. He tries to remember the nights he’d fallen asleep resentful. He tried to remember the times he needed her so badly, it was like a kick to his stomach. He tried. He really did. But he can’t really explain the moment his arms come around her. When Clarke Griffin hugs you, it’s really hard not to hug her back.

So he tells himself that he’ll pull away immediately. They needed to get back to camp. Hugging her in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere isn’t smart. He needed to get her back. He needed.

But she leans into him and he lifts her off the ground because he’s so profoundly glad and terrified. He can’t let go. She’ll leave or he’ll wake up, if he does. It’s the only logical outcome. Because she was gone for so long and he missed her for so long, he can't register the possibility that she's here. He knows, above everything, that he can’t let go.

“You’re here," she murmurs against the crook of his neck. She sounds so relieved and he feels a physical fist against his throat. He wants to tell her that he’s so relieved, so glad, so finally at peace, to know that she’s here. She’s alive. But he doesn't and the words get lodged above his sternum. He swallows. 

When the shock starts to wear off, he loosens his grips on her waist a little but doesn’t let go. She's real and she's here. She feels firm against him. No sign of the fragility he'd seen. He mentally chided himself. She might be broken, but she was never fragile. _So strong,_ he thinks as he kisses the crown of her head.

He knows she’s there but can’t help but place his fingers at the pulse point on her neck. Light, so she wouldn't notice. He counts thirteen beats before she pulls away.

“I wasn’t searching,” she says, looking up at him. Her eyes are hard and her jaw set. To the untrained eye, she might have looked intimidating with her red-streaked hair and her staring. But he could see the wobble of her lips and he could feel the shaking of her fingers above his waist where she's still holding him. “I was lost but I wasn’t searching.” Her eyes widen when he brushes his thumb against her cheek, as if struck by some kind of realization. Bellamy can’t even begin to understand what, but she’s here and he doesn’t care. Her hands slide up his chest and stays over his heart. She can hear his heart thunder against his chest, he’s sure. It’s fine. He has nothing to hide from her. “And I found you,” she whispers. Her words are barely a breath between them, but he feels like the world—this chaotic, cruel world—is starting to make some sense.

His eyes flutter shut as he presses his forehead against hers. He wants to think their proximity would have some effect on him but there’s nothing. Just this realization that things would be fine. The resentment, anger, fear, joy; it's all background noise. It's enough to make him smile. 

For now, this is enough. “You found me," he echoes.

He doesn't say that the world is fucking huge and he definitely doesn't tell her that despite everything, he knows they'll always find each other. 

That's just conversation for another day. She smiles quietly. Hesitantly. Hopefully. The kind he knows, she'd only let him see. 

They have time.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm idontgiveaneffie on tumblr. Come cry about fictional characters with me.


End file.
